


Moran/Pike ficlets and drabbles collection

by tiger_moran



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Crossdressing, Crossover, Drabble Collection, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:03:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger_moran/pseuds/tiger_moran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets and drabbles featuring Sebastian Moran and the gossipmonger Langdale Pike, because it's my headcanon that Pike is an associate of/informant to Moriarty and that Moran ends up in a relationship with him on the side. Also featuring Moriarty/Moran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moran/Pike ficlets and drabbles collection

**Snatched Moments:**   

   “Colonel,” says Pike, unfolding himself from the chaise longue and moving languidly over to greet Moran. “I gather that you were able to spare a few minutes for me after all.”  

   “Just a few minutes,” Moran says firmly, striding over to meet him.

   “Is that all I am worth to you, Sebastian?” Pike enquires, leaning against Moran’s chest. “The merest crumbs of your affection?”

   “Don’t start that again; you know that-” Moran’s breath hitches and his words die in his throat as Pike licks a trail up the side of his throat, across his jaw and nibbles at his earlobe. 

   “If we only have minutes together, dear boy, perhaps we should hurry things along, hmm?” he says in a low voice in Moran’s ear, flashing him a wanton smile, the effect of which largely seems to bypass the colonel’s brain and go straight to his groin.

   “Mm,” is all Moran can manage in response as Pike’s long, slender fingers move to unbutton his trousers before Pike drops, not without great elegance, to his knees.

   Maybe this should bother Moran – snatching these moments with Langdale Pike, knowing that the reclusive gossipmonger is developing feelings for him which Moran cannot match; knowing too that Moriarty is waiting for him back home. Everything though – all thought; all feelings; all sensations dissolve and fade into the warmth of Pike’s mouth on him; the movements of his talented tongue and clever fingers, and for these few minutes Sebastian Moran forgets to care about anything else.

-

**Wickedness:**

 “I do believe, Sebastian,” Pike says, stretching out across the bed with a degree of grace and languor that is oddly feline, “that we have yet to fully plumb the depths of your wickedness.” He toys with the hem of Moran’s shirt while the colonel, his back to the bed, fastens up his buttons. Pike is aware though, due to the position of the mirror across the room, of Moran’s smirk.

“Aye, well I reckon we’d need a few decades to be able to fully plumb the depths of  _your_  wickedness,” Moran remarks.

“Oh I’m sure we will have plenty of time for that,” Pike says, and gives an insistent tug on Moran’s shirt tails that twists him around and pulls him down all at once, until Moran is crouching over him and kissing him - softly now - upon the lips once more. “I assure you, my dear colonel,” he says after a moment, brushing a strand of hair back off Moran’s forehead, “that I have no intention of going anywhere.”

-

**Invert:**

There is something about the atmosphere in Pike’s home that makes Moran feel unusually lazy whenever he’s there, or perhaps it’s simply that much of his time in the man’s company is spent in energetic fucking and thus he ends up tired out every time. Whatever it is, now he sprawls inelegantly across the chaise-longue, having no inclination at all to even sit up straight, dressed only in one of his companion’s silk robes. He smokes his cigarette whilst watching Pike. “Come on,” he coaxes. “You know all about him, I know you do.”

Pike smirks at him from his position in an armchair across the room, sitting there with his long legs tucked underneath him. “I did not think that you, Colonel, were one for indulging in idle gossip.”

Moran takes a pull on his cigarette. “I’m not.” He runs a hand through his tousled hair, slicking it back. “Just curiosity, that’s all.”

“Nothing whatsoever to do with your employer expressing an interest?

“Not at all.”

“Nor jealousy on your part?”

“Langdale, if I was to concern myself with everyone that you have flirted with I would have no time to do anything else. I promise you, it’s just curiosity. You know I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Hmm, well…” Pike ponders this for a moment. 

“So, is he?”

Pike smiles sweetly. “Is he what, dear boy?” 

Laughing, Moran throws a cushion at him. “You bloody know what!”

Pike ducks the cushion and continues to smile at him. “Is Lord Pendleton an invert, like me or your good self?” He breaks into giggles then. “Well that, my dearest Sebastian, would mean kissing and telling.”

-

**Caution:**

“I must urge you to proceed with caution,” Moran says, and Pike pauses to regard him with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you being coy, Sebastian?” he enquires, and steals a kiss. His mouth tastes of the wine that he’s consumed in rather large quantities.

“You know I don’t mean that,” Moran says when he can break free. He catches Pike’s hands and halts their meandering over his body. “You can’t mess with a man like Moriarty and expect to get away with it unscathed.”

“Hmm, well.” Pike grins as he tugs his hands free of Moran’s grasp and drops them to undo the colonel’s trousers. “What if I mess with you then, is that acceptable?”

Moran laughs as Pike drops to his knees in front of him. “Yes,” he says, “I think that is  _definitely_  acceptable.”

-  
  
 **Clothing:**

”Jesus Christ,” Moran says when he sees his companion, and then he starts laughing in disbelief.

“Don’t you like it?” Pike asks. “I so thought that you would.” He feigns hurt but he’s obviously amused as he bats his eyelashes at Moran in a coquettish fashion. He glides over to Moran in an easy way, proof probably that he has worn these high-heeled boots at least several times before tonight.

“Christ, Langdale.” Moran is still laughing as Pike presses one hand, gloved in black lace, against his face. 

“Oh Colonel, don’t you want to ravish me, hmm?” Pike asks, and kisses Moran’s cheek, leaving a smear of red lipstick on it.

“You in women’s clothing is not a sight I ever expected to see.” Moran brushes his fingers through Pike’s hair and continues to chuckle. The man doesn’t look bad though, he has to admit. Although he’s rather too lean, he has the knack of carrying himself with elegance, and Moran has always liked the air of mystery and the promise of what lies beneath with long skirts. 

“Well I do not think that you have any objections to it,” Pike says with a smirk, pressing himself against Moran’s body, aware of the growing hardness in the colonel’s groin. ”You know, dear heart,” he says softly, but with ill-disguised lechery in his voice, into Moran’s ear, “I am not wearing anything at all under this skirt.”

-  
  
 **Personal:**

   Pike does not avert his eyes from the glass even as the figure steps over beside him. “Colonel,” he says. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

   Moran shifts uncomfortably, aware of the scrutiny from other members. Although he’s clean and smart enough, this is not his kind of club at all. “We need to talk.”

   Pike finally turns his head away from the window to look up at the colonel. “Dear boy, when I recall some of our previous ‘conversations’, I must say that this is hardly the time or the place for such-”

   “Listen to me,” Moran growls, stooping over and gripping Pike by his jacket. “You’ve been stirring things up, Langdale, and Moriarty is not pleased with you.”

   Pike glances down at Moran’s hand. “Sebastian, this is hardly the time or the place for threatening me either.”

   “I’m not threatening you, I’m  _warning_  you.” Moran relinquishes his hold and slips into the seat beside Pike instead. “He tolerates you only because you’re useful to him, but now you’re making his grievance against you too personal. The moment you become more trouble than you’re worth… he’ll end you.”

   Pike fixes his gaze on Moran’s, rather too intently for the colonel’s liking. “And you would care, would you? If he was to dispose of me?”

   “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”

    Pike presses his face closer to Moran’s ear to whisper, “But do you care, Colonel, because you truly care about  _me_? Or would it simply inconvenience you too much to have to find someone else to fuck on the side, hmm?”

   Moran pulls away and stands up abruptly. “Goodbye Pike,” he says. “I’ve warned you; what you do with that warning is up to you.”

   “Indeed it is.” Pike tracks his movements momentarily before calling after him, with a sly smile, “I shall see you tomorrow, Colonel.”

   Moran, though he carries on walking smartly away, does not contradict him.

-

**Share:**

   “Do you love him?” Moriarty asks, with nonchalance and perhaps a glimmer of amusement in those cold eyes.

    Pike laughs, making a decent job of covering his nervousness at the present situation. “Dear boy, I’ve heard it said of me more than once that I fall in love with everyone who so much as glances in my direction.”

   “But do you love  _Sebastian_?” Moriarty asks, resolutely meeting Pike’s gaze until the journalist is forced to look down at his feet.

    Pike’s left hand picks idly at a loose thread on the antique chair; his right is clasped around his whisky glass, the rings on his fingers chinking against its side. He seems oblivious to both actions. “I am fond of him,” he confesses, still looking at the floor. “No more.”

   “You know that he is mine and shall always be so.”

   “I know that.” Pike flicks his gaze up to meet Moriarty’s again then drops it to rest on the colonel, wishing that he would say something.

   He won’t though, will he? Not in this state, not without his master’s permission. Colonel Sebastian Moran, one of the world’s best marksmen; former soldier; hunter;  _killer_ ; a proud, strong-willed creature, now kneeling naked at the professor’s feet, head bowed. Moriarty’s hand rests upon his head, stroking his hair. It is a most perverse and private act between the pair, yet Pike now bears witness to it, solely because Moriarty wishes to prove his point: that no matter how often Moran strays; no matter if Moriarty even decides to share him occasionally, the colonel will  _always_  come back to him.

 


End file.
